Fallen Angel
by Elphaba713
Summary: When an old enemy shows up with trouble on her heels and an unnerving story to tell, Kim has to deal with the possibility of an evil that she never could have imagined...and not from the usual villians this time. KPMax Ride crossover, KiGo.
1. Odd Things

-1Author's Note: Okay. I know I've got a ton of other projects to work on. But inspiration hit (dang inspiration… someone shoot it for me), and I had to write this idea. This is sort of a crossover between KP and James Patterson's Maximum Ride series, though I will not be using Max and the flock as main characters in this story, if they appear at all. I am using the plot as a springboard, though, so there will be some plotline similarities and I can't promise there won't be spoilers for the books - in fact, there almost certainly will be. Also, this fic will have Kigo in it, so if you're not a fan of that, you have been warned. I hope everyone enjoys this, and I must hint that I LOVE reviews! Thanks!

Disclaimer: Kim Possible and all the fun characters thereof are property of Disney. Maximum Ride and all characters/plotlines are the amazing creation of James Patterson. All I own of this is the wacky idea to combine them. I am getting no profit out of this except the fun I glean from writing it.

Prologue - Odd Things

Life is full of odd things. I'm not really talking the good 'odd', the odd where something happens and everyone laughs and thinks 'What were the chances of _that_?' and it makes everything better or at least makes for an amusing story later - though that does happen often enough, I suppose. I'm leaning more towards the bad kind of odd things that leave you standing there shell-shocked thinking 'What the _hell_ was that?' You know. Those odd things.

Odd things like random comets from space crashing through the tree-based clubhouse of five close-knit siblings, forever changing their lives and ultimately tearing them apart. Odd things like heroes being blamed for acts of villainy to the point that they finally give up and decide they might as well go out and earn that blame. Odd things like villains becoming targets of people who everyone believes are heroes, only to become victims of villainous acts they themselves would never have imagined.

Odd like genetic experiments. Odd like human-animal hybrids, wolf-men and winged people. Odd like poor, innocent kids being treated like nothing more than animals in cages and their DNA altered and messed with and tested and screwed up until it painfully kills them. Those kind of odd things. The kind of odd things that horrify even the most hardened of villains. The kind of odd things that make the most emotionless of people cry. The kind of odd things that will take someone who always swore to be fearless and send them running for their currently worthless little life.

Those were the sort of odd things I was dealing with. And, let me tell you, I wasn't too happy with them at the moment. I was dirty, sore, exhausted, and starving. Oh, and cold. Yeah, middle of winter in Colorado, and I was definitely underdressed. Not fun.

At least the one thing I wasn't was lost. Thank the Powers that Be for this nice innate sense of direction. Rare perk. I knew perfectly well where I was: wandering the streets of good old Middleton, CO, which were apparently deserted at 2 AM. Convenient. But I guess I was still paranoid, because a slight scrabbling sound behind me was all it took to urge me into a sprint that I was a bit shocked I could manage and pretty sure I couldn't keep up for long. But I only had a block to go.

But I was still panting pathetically by the time I stopped and stood in front of the house I was aiming for. Second thoughts became the bane of my existence at that moment. Maybe this wasn't a good idea. I mean, I hadn't seen the girl in three years. And we weren't exactly on friendly terms the last time did see each other. Maybe she wouldn't help me - it wasn't like she had any reason to. Or, maybe she would - putting herself in danger when she really shouldn't be because I'd never given her any danged reason to. And this was really _not_ the time to be having such doubts, considering that I was standing on her lawn with nowhere else to go.

An assisted jump landed me rather awkwardly on the roof - I was too tired to care about the gracelessness of the movement - sighing heavily. Yeah. Life is full of odd things. And it _had_to be a rather odd thing that had Shego knocking helplessly on Kim Possible's bedroom window.


	2. Angel At My Window

-1Author's Note: Okay. Responding to reviews. First, Beef, did not intend to steal your title!! I might change it; I'm bad with titles and that was the best one I could come up with at the time to fit the story. I didn't know it was taken. Then second, this is timed to come after Mad Dogs and Aliens. Third, I like angst, too, so no worries. And forth, I'm doing first-person, and because it is rather Shego-centric, it will mostly stick to Shego's POV, but certain chapters (such as this one) are better from Kim's and thus are done from her POV. I hope that it doesn't get too confusing. Now, to Ken, I know that asking for help is OOC for Shego in most cases, but when circumstances call for it people will do things they normally wouldn't, and remember you don't know what she's been through the past three years that might make her willing to ask. It will be explained in the story, don't worry. On the OOC note, I'm not too happy with this chapter, but it's the important but difficult (for me) 'explanation/intro' chapter, so I apologize and beg you to bear with me. And, last but not least, my gaurdian HaruHara and Adrian Jeremy (and Beef and Ken, too), thanks for the reviews!! Now (…finally), on with the story.

**Chapter One: Angel At My Window**

_Ugh, Ron… _The thought floated through my half-awake mind as the sound of knocking pulled me from my sleep. He must have had a bad dream again, calling at - what time was it? I glanced blearily at the clock - 2:37 AM! I love the boy, really, but you'd think by 21 he'd have outgrown that. Oh, well, at least it was winter break, so I could sleep late tomorrow. I was reaching for the phone before my mind woke up enough to actually _think_. Wait a minute. The phone _rings_, it doesn't _knock_. Duh, Kim.

I sat up, blinking to clear the sleep from my eyes, and looked over at the door - but that wasn't where the sound was coming from. I turned instead to the window, saw a dark shape outside, and felt instantly awake, instinct and adrenaline kicking in. I knew it wasn't Ron; I could tell that much, but something struck me as familiar and I couldn't figure who else would be knocking on my window at this hour. I mean, a bad guy wouldn't knock, right?

Still, I was on full alert as I clambered out of bed and over to the window, carefully opening it. The person outside dove in immediately, and I was poised to fight before I'd even registered that they hadn't jumped at me, just through the opening, and now seemed eager to get as far from said opening as they could. Then it struck me who it was, and shock temporarily overwhelmed my defense instinct. "Shego?!" It came out as a half-shout, and she flinched.

"Not so loud!" she ordered, sounding - well, a bit nervous, for lack of a better description. "Close the window. And get away from it."

"What?" I shook my head, sure I was dreaming. I had to be. I hadn't seen Shego since… when? That thing with Drakken and the alien, at the beginning of senior year. She'd gone back to Greece, and then apparently disappeared, and now she was… standing in my bedroom at near 3 in the morning and telling me to close my window? Okay, I could go for a wake-up call about now.

"I said, close the window!" she repeated, darting past me to practically slam the window closed, then grabbing my arm and pulling me back away from the window before I even had time to react. I jerked away from her.

"What are you doing? No, scratch that. What are you doing _here_?" I demanded, shocked by how calm I sounded. It had felt pretty real when she'd half-dragged me across my room; maybe I wasn't dreaming. But I still liked to think I was - it was a lot less confusing to my still sleepy mind.

Shego glared in the general direction of the now-closed window for a minute, as if debating making her entrance become her exit, before mumbling something I couldn't make out. "What?" I asked, again a bit too calm, and she glanced at me before returning her gaze to the window and repeating herself, louder and clearer this time.

"I need your help." She practically spat out the words, as if she was disgusted by the fact that she had to say them, and maybe it was that note of annoyance that kept me from automatically assuming she was trying to trick me.

I looked her up and down. She did look a mess. Her pale skin was darkened by dirt and grime, and she was thinner than I remembered. Less fashionable, too - her grungy t-shirt, too-light jacket, and ripped jeans looked like she might have found them in a thrift store dumpster. Her hair was pulled back in a messy ponytail - and, I noted, looked shorter by a good few inches. At least she didn't seem to be much of a threat… she looked exhausted, like she could fall over any second. She hardly looked at all like the Shego I remembered, and from the lack of insults, sarcasm, and nicknames in the past five minutes, certainly didn't sound like her. I was starting to feel a bit of concern, which I think I masked rather well as I crossed my arms and regarded her skeptically.

"_You_ need _my _help." It was a question within a statement, and I knew she heard the disbelief in my voice. She turned her glare on me.

"What, are you deaf? Don't make me say it again, Kimmie," and I smiled wryly. Spoke too soon - that sounded more like the Shego I remembered. A bit. And yet I was still worried, and highly disliking every second of it, because I knew I shouldn't be worried about her, I should be kicking her out of my house and telling her quite clearly not to come back. So, obviously, I was crazy, because I couldn't seem to get myself to do so. I sighed and sat down on my bed, keeping a close eye on her in case she tried anything.

"Okay. With what, then?" I asked. It seemed the obvious question, and though I could tell Shego had expected it, I could also tell she didn't like it. She crossed her arms and glared at the floor, then tilted her head back to look at the ceiling, then finally fixed me with a stern look.

"I can't tell you much until I know you're going to help me." Her tone left little room for argument, really, but that didn't mean I was happy with it.

"If you don't tell me anything, then I'm not _going_ to help you," I retorted.

She rolled her eyes and, arms still crossed, leaned back against my desk for support, glancing sideways at the window and rearranging her position so that she couldn't really be seen from it. _Paranoid much?_ I thought, but was saved from further musings when she started talking.

"There are these… people. Doing… bad things. To other people." She fidgeted slightly. "Animals, too, but the worst is the people. The kids."

"What kind of bad things?" She was being vague. I didn't like vague. Sure, she could just be weighing what it was she wanted to tell me, but she could just as easily be making something up and trying to figure out what would hook me - like mentioning kids, for instance.

"_Bad_ things, Princess. What else do you need?" She shook her head and made a sort of _humph_ sound. "Science-y bad things. Turning them into lab rats. Keeping them in cages. Using them for experiments."

I gave her a look. "Since when do you care who does what to anyone, Shego? It doesn't sound like it involves you; why would you care?"

In an instant she had pushed herself off the desk and was inches away from me. She kept her voice quiet - thankfully, so she wouldn't wake my parents - but the anger in her glare and the fierceness in her tone shocked me. "Because they're _kids_, Possible. Children. _Babies,_ for God's sake. And I don't care what I'll do or won't do as a thief, I'd never hurt a kid. Got it?" I nodded slightly, and she backed off, leaving me feeling fully startled by her reaction to my accusation. Moving back to the desk, she sighed heavily. "Besides, Pumpkin, it does involve me. How do you think I know about it? I've seen it. I've been there. That's why I'm here. Or else I wouldn't bother wasting your _precious_ time." The last sentence was practically dripping with sarcasm.

I glared at her for a second, then rolled my eyes. "Okay. So, what kind of experiments?" She merely blinked at me. I rolled my eyes again. "Shego. Look. You have to give me more than this. You can't blame me for not trusting you. If you're going to be all secretive and such, then how can I know you aren't just making up some general thing as you go?"

She glared at me for a long second, then sighed. "Genetic experiments," she muttered.

"What kind of genetic experiments?" She didn't answer. _Okay,_ I thought, _let's play 20 questions, then._ "Are they messing with DNA?"

"That would usually be the meaning of 'genetic', yes."

"Like what DNAmy did?"

Shego made a sound something between a laugh and a snort. "Yeah, right. A lot worse than that, Princess."

"Worse how?" But again, she didn't answer. I sighed slightly. "Okay. Look. This is all so wonderfully vague, but I need more than this. Do you have any proof? Anything to prove that I should believe you on this?" She looked at me for a long moment, and I couldn't help but think _I've got her there_. She'd either have to tell me enough information to convince me, or she'd have to admit she had nothing and leave. So when she finally sighed heavily and hung her head, I was pretty sure that we'd reached the end of this odd meeting. But what she said was the last thing I expected to hear.

"Yeah. Yeah, Kimmie. I got your proof." She stepped away from the desk and shrugged off her jacket, and this time I was sure I just _had _to be dreaming. Because she was standing in front of me, spreading a large pair of amazing, raven-black wings. "These proof enough for you, Cupcake?"


	3. Erasers, Whitecoats, and Hybrids, Oh My!

-1Author's Note: Wow. This was a pretty long chapter for me. Still another explanation one, so again not the easiest to write, but I have such an easier time with Shego's POV than with Kim's, so that helped a bit. Thanks to everyone who reviewed; good to know I'm doing well enough to hook people so quick! (And as a quick note, Ken, I have no idea why it's so easy to picture Shego with wings, but it is, and that's the mental picture that sparked this entire story!) HaruHara, I know Kim was a bit off last chapter; that bugged me too. I hope I get better with writing her as this goes on. Beef, have to say, I'm loving the long reviews… you have NO idea how useful the input is, and it's awesome to know that people can catch all the backplots, theories, and ideas I put into my stories (like Shego's moral code, or Ron's immaturity causing problems). I try to make my writing deep, going beyond just the obvious plot, so I love knowing that I'm doing well with that so far. And to all the other reviewers: again, thank you! It's a real encouragement to know people are liking this. Now, on to chapter two, and I hope it's still hooking you all!

Chapter Two: Erasers and Whitecoats and Hybrids, Oh My!

Okay. I have to admit it: this was one of the biggest risks I could have possibly taken - even if she didn't leave me much choice - and I still wasn't thrilled about being here and certainly was not enjoying the fact that I had to ask anyone - let alone my one-time nemesis - for help… but, the look on Possible's face when she saw my wings? It almost made it all worth it. Almost.

"Okay, yeah, Kimmie?" She didn't move, and I chuckled slightly. "You know, it's rude to stare, and you might want to close your mouth before your jaw hits the floor." She obediently blinked and snapped her mouth shut, managing a couple non-word syllables before shaking her head and clearing her throat.

"Are… are they… real?" she asked haltingly.

It seemed such a ludicrous question to me that I almost burst out laughing. "Of course they are, doy!" I fluttered them slightly as if that might prove it, noting that, from my current position, the space between Kimmie's desk and the wall wasn't really big enough for my wingspan. Better than the old cage, but I'd sort of gotten used to being out in the open, over the past couple of weeks, and it made me feel uncomfortably penned-in. Folding them a bit, I glanced up to see that Kim had stood and was looking at me - or, rather, at my wings - uncertainly. "What?"

She blinked and gave me a startled look, like she hadn't expected me to say anything. "Um… can I… I mean…" She held out a hand., and I chuckled, rather humorlessly, stretching the tip of one wing out towards her. She lightly brushed her fingers across the feathers, still looking awed, then glanced up at me. "Wow… Shego, how…"

"Do you not listen?" I cut her off. "Or does 'genetic experimentation on people' not mean what I think it does any more?"

Apparently not content with merely examining the feathers at my wingtip, she carefully trailed her hand up to the joint, then, holding there to keep my wing spread, laid another hand on my shoulder and angled me so that she could trace the wing down to where it joined my back. She ran her hand along where it connected, and I pulled away slightly as it sent a shiver down my spine - _Mental note, that's a sensitive spot_. "Yeah, yeah, Princess, they're connected. On there pretty good. You done with the check-up? Can I have my wing back now?" She let go, and I folded my wings and turned to face her, stuck awkwardly close between her and the desk. We stared at each other for a few seconds, then I cleared my throat slightly. "Um, Pumpkin? Little room, please?"

"Oh, um, yeah. Sorry." She stepped back, fidgeting, and I couldn't help but grin a bit at seeing her embarrassed. "So, um…" she started, glancing up at me again, and my grin widened. It was somehow a strange relief to see that in three years she hadn't lost that Possible blush. "Can… can you… fly?"

Again, for some reason, this question stuck me as amusing, and I didn't bother to hold back another humorless chuckle, followed by a sigh. "No. They weren't exactly keen on teaching those who _really_ wanted to escape the means to do so. Not to mention I didn't exactly have the room to try." Giant dog crates did not make for good flight-practice grounds. She was looking at me oddly, and I hurried to add, "I'm a pretty good glider, though," noticing with some annoyance that it came out sounding rather defensive.

She looked at me, again seeming uncertain. "So, how did you escape, then?"

I shrugged. "Saw an opportunity and took it, Princess. And, amazingly, it worked. Helped a bit that I can still do this." I held up one hand, lit up, and she stepped back quickly. I grinned. "Calm down, Kimmie, I'm not gonna jump you or something." I dropped my arm back to my side, admitting grudgingly to myself that I was in no shape to give her much of a workout - even if I wanted to -.and I wasn't dumb enough to try, knowing I'd lose. But I wasn't going to tell her that.

Kim looked me up and down, then backed up the step to her bed and plopped down heavily onto it. "Okay. I'm convinced. Now spill."

"What?"

"You said you couldn't tell me much until you knew I was going to help you. I said I couldn't agree to help until I was convinced you were telling the truth." She shrugged. "Well, I'm convinced; there really is something going on here. So, spill. What's the sitch? In detail, this time."

I sighed slightly. "Not sure I have much detail for you, Princess. I can tell you what they're doing, but I can't say why, or even really who, and my 'where' is pretty vague. They didn't exactly let me in on many of the finer details."

"Well, then, tell me what you do know."

I sighed again, moving to sit down in the nearby desk chair - and it felt very good to just sit down. I could have fallen asleep in that chair. Not that that was an option right now. I debated where to begin - guess the beginning would be a good place, huh? Ugh, I hated being 'story-teller'. "Okay. So you know, I didn't seek out the place or something. They came after me, originally. Don't know how they knew where to find me, but they did. Wanted my permission to take samples of my DNA and all that; something about seeing what caused my powers and junk. Well, I know what caused them, and I didn't like the idea of my DNA floating around for them to do God knows what with, plus something about these guys just didn't feel right to me. Real smooth and charming - handsome, too; looked like a couple of male models - but just… unnatural, I guess. So I told them in no uncertain terms to leave me alone."

"Wait, who are 'they'?" Kim cut in.

"Doy, Kimmie, I don't know! I already said that. Scientists. The two who came to talk to me gave me names, but I didn't bother remembering them; didn't figure it would matter at the time. Anyways, they were generic; John Roberts or the like. Dime-a-dozen names, not particularly special or useful - probably not even their real names. Besides, I found out later that they weren't even scientists, just lackeys of a sort… and their names wouldn't matter now anyways because they're both dead." At the look she gave me, I held up one hand. "I'll get to that. And before you ask, no, I had nothing to do with it - I'm a thief, not a murderer."

She nodded, and I was glad she let it go at that. "So, you told them to go away. Then what?"

"They came back. With reinforcements." I shook my head. "Apparently the bosses weren't too happy with me saying no, and had decided anyways that if having my DNA would be useful, actually having _me_ would be even better. Suffice to say they got me. I woke up in a cage in some lab somewhere."

Her shocked expression actually made me feel rather proud. "They took you down? How many were there?"

_Six. _"Didn't count," I lied, preferring her to believe there must have been a lot. "But they weren't… normal people. Remember how I said those guys were all handsome and charming, but just didn't seem natural?" She nodded. "Turns out that's how all Erasers look when they're in human form."

"Erasers?" She questioned, and I nodded.

"Another type of recombinant - human with animal DNA. I guess I'm a human-avian hybrid; Erasers are human-lupine."

She thought about that for a second. "Wolf-men."

"Exactly. They're vicious, merciless, bloodthirsty, ruthless…" I realized my voice had gone up in volume a couple notches and took a deep breath to calm myself a bit. "They're killing machines, Kimmie. They're created and trained to be that way, assassins, mercenaries, killers. Powers or no, I didn't stand much of a chance against a pack of those monsters." She shuddered a bit. I didn't blame her. "I gotta warn you, Princess. That's what we're dealing with, here. You get in on this, you're gonna meet some Erasers. So if you're not up for that, tell me right now and I'll leave the way I came and deal with it myself."

She looked at me for a long moment, her expression unreadable, then smiled wryly. "I'm already in on this, Shego. So then what happened?"

I smiled slightly. Yep. Same old Kimmie: too noble for her own good. But I'll admit, it was a relief that I wouldn't be finding myself back out on the streets within the next five minutes. "Yeah. Right. Well, there was a lot of painful stuff I'd rather not go into - apparently that comet did something to my DNA, and that's why I've got this wonderful ability and fashionable skin tone - and they had a nice little time with that. And then they decided to try a little recombination on me. They'd done such things before, but the Erasers are the only time it had worked - as in, hadn't killed the person instantly or within a week or so. I guess they figured maybe my 'unique' DNA would handle it better, or maybe it was just a new technique they wanted to try. Whatever the case, it hurt like hell, and I hear I was out of it for over a month, but I woke up with a new set of wings to show for the whole ordeal. And that's when I was moved from my little lab to the School, and there's where I really got inducted into what the Whitecoats are doing at that place."

"Wait, slow down." Kimmie held up a hand. "Recombination? The School? Whitecoats? You're losing me."

I sighed. "'The School' is what everyone called the compound we were kept in; I don't know why. 'Whitecoats' is the name we all used for the scientists there. And 'recombination' is what it's called when they'd combine animal DNA with a human. At least, they always called me a 'recombinant'… for some reason, the Erasers didn't seem to be put into that category."

I could practically see the wheels spinning in Kim's brain. "So it is sort of like what DNAmy did, then."

"Not really. I mean, I suppose the concept is the same, but the methods were different, and so were the results. Her combinations were made from scratch, while at the School they'd start with one thing - a dog, say - and genetically combine a certain percentage of another animal's - let's say a fish's - DNA with the dog's own DNA, resulting in maybe a dog with fins and gills. Like, I'm now 98 human, 2 bird." I shrugged. "DNAmy's experiment would either be 50/50, or, odd as it sounds, 100/100 - even mixes of two separate and specific DNAs…" I saw the confusion in her gaze and realized I was losing her, and in all honesty I didn't fully understand it myself - what I did know was figured from bits and pieces I had picked up from the Whitecoats and things I remembered from the time Drakken had teamed up with DNAmy. "It's complicated. But the two main differences are that DNAmy did not change the creature's fundamental genetic make-up - and any time she did, it wasn't permanent and would break down harmlessly in time - and she didn't use human test subjects."

Kim nodded. "Big difference, there, that last one."

"Yeah," I agreed. "The things the Whitecoats are doing… I already said they use kids. But I'm talking _little_ kids, too… babies, newborns. I don't know how they get them, just that they do, and then they lock them in cages and use them as lab rats. They don't care if they hurt the kids, or if some of them die, or what happens to them. It's all in the name of science to them." I shook my head. "The only ones they _do_ seem to care at all about are the Erasers. They're the guards of the place; the only ones who seem to have any freedom or anything. I guess they like to be there or something. I swear, it's like they're building an army - they have this big area of land, with open areas and forests and a lake, where the entire point seems to be to let 'prey' loose and then send Erasers after it, and see how long it takes them to track it down. Everything from rabbits to other experiments. With the animals the command is 'kill', with the experiments it's usually just 'catch' - though the Erasers seem to think that as long as the thing's not dead, it fits within that category, and the Whitecoats let them get away with it - but if they decide they've done all they want with an experiment… well, let's just say, quite a few of my fellow caged 'students' have failed to come back from the Eraser's training grounds."

Kim shook her head slowly. "That's… that's awful…" It was one of those times where there really wasn't much one could say, and I was kind of grateful she didn't try. She looked up at me after a long moment of silence. "How did you escape?"

I shrugged slightly. "They liked to run all sorts of tests and stuff on me, to see how much I could do, things the recombination allowed. There's more than just the wings - I'm faster than a regular human, stronger, have more endurance, even more so than I did before, I guess. And I overheard that they're expecting there to be other stuff I can do, but I haven't really figured out what yet, or even if that's true." I shook my head. "Whatever. Well, turns out one of those 'tests' was taking my turn in 'Eraser park'. I guess in all the excitement about turning me into a successful hybrid, they forgot I had other powers too - they only sent two Erasers after me, and that wasn't too hard to handle. I found an opening, took off running, blasted anyone who got in my way, and managed to get away before they even fully realized what was going on. I figured I had better get out of there before the Erasers tracked me down, but I couldn't just let that kind of stuff go on like that… so I took advantage of some bus lines and the like, and discovered the joys night travel and of gliding across roofs, and it took _way_ too long for my tastes, but here I am, alive and…" I glanced down at myself, "looking rather like a homeless scrub, unfortunately." I sighed. "And still wondering what the heck I'm going to do about this whole dang thing."

She was quiet for a long moment, thinking, then fixed me with an odd look, a mix between determined, stern, and concerned. "Well, we'll figure out what _we're_ going to do about it tomorrow, because now you are going to sleep."

That was not what I expected to hear. I stared at her for a minute. "What?"

"From what you just told me, you've been on the run night and day for I don't know how long." She stood and moved to the closet, searching through it for something. "You look like you might pass out any minute." She produced a blanket and pillow, turning to face me again. "And it's 3:45 AM. So there's nothing we really _can_ do until you've rested a bit."

There was logic in that, whether I agreed or not, and really the idea of getting a few hours sleep sounded _way_ too good for me to argue with it. "Floor's fine," I stated, seeing her glance uncertainly at the bed - sure, it could fit both of us easy, but even I would have felt rather awkward with that one. I mean, come on, she might be helping me with this, but we'd always been enemies and this wouldn't change it - she wasn't helping _me_, after all, as much as she was agreeing that the Whitecoats had to be stopped.

I stood and took the offered blanket and pillow, glancing around before making a snap decision that I knew for sure was not the smartest I could have made, but felt right. I settled myself on the floor, in the space between the window and the bed. I watched Kim climb back into her own bed before lying down myself. There were no 'good-nights' exchanged; I guess neither of us felt the need - or perhaps both of us felt too awkward. But I had to admit to myself, as I settled comfortably down on the floor - hey, I had a blanket and a pillow; I was practically in Heaven - and closed my eyes, that I had made the right decision. It was a slim chance, but it was there, and Kim really just didn't know what she was dealing with; not like I did. For some odd reason that can only be explained by paranoia-induced insanity, it made me feel better to think that if any Erasers were to come crashing through that window and fixed their sights on Kimmie, well - first they'd have to go through me. And let me tell you, worn out or not, none of them would survive that attempt while I was alive to stop them.


	4. Morning Arguments

-1Wow. They keep getting longer and longer. I wonder if I can keep this up… the long(ish) chapters, I mean. I know I'm gonna keep the story going, 'cause I'm having fun with it! Okay, this is yet another explaining sort of chapter. I promise these are almost over and we'll get into the actual plotline part soon. But a story like this takes a lot of setting up, so that's what I'm being fourced to do. I hope that these are still enjoyable, and that all those people I've hooked are still loving it! Thanks to everyone who's reviewed (no personal replies this time 'cause I can't think of anything to say… but I love you all!) and please keep letting me know what you think! Now, on with the chapter.

Chapter Three: Morning Arguments

Waking up from a nightmare is always disconcerting, as is waking up in an unfamiliar place, so when you add them both together you're sure to get an unpleasant mix. I'd come to be a rather light sleeper recently, and I woke instantly at the first sound of movement, already on edge. My brain ran on instinct to point out that I didn't know where I was, and I sat up so fast I almost gave myself whiplash before memory kicked in and I remembered where I was -- and why I was where I was, which is always a useful thing to know -- and a glance around told me that the sound that ha so awakened me had been Kim tossing off the covers and sitting up in bed. Apparently my own quick movement had caught her attention, because she had stopped in mid-motion and was looking at me, her eyes holding a mix of concern and pity that served well to annoy me. This situation did not strike me as a good way to start the day. But I suppose it could be worse. At least I wasn't, say, in a cage. Or, you know, dead.

"What?" I demanded, glaring, wishing she would stop staring at me.

"You okay?" she asked, sounding worried. There was no reason that she should be worried.

"I'm fine, Princess."

"Bad dream?" she asked, still all sympathetic and otherwise annoying. Well, couldn't have that. I glared at her for a moment longer.

"Yeah, Kimmie. I dreamed I was sleeping in your room and that you were being all loud and waking me up. Oh, wait, no, sorry -- I guess that's real." Well, that worked. She sighed slightly, rolled her eyes, and resumed climbing out of bed. I stretched, wings and all -- again noting that compared to about a thirteen-foot wingspan (that's a guess, I've never really measured them, though I'm sure one of the Whitecoats could tell you exactly), Kim had a rather cramped room -- and ran my fingers through my hair as best I could, glaring at nothing in particular. I hated that I was such a mess. Three years ago, I _never_ would have been caught dead in an outfit like this, or with my hair even pulled back, let alone tangled, messy, unwashed. Even my wings could use a good washing. Ick.

Add to that problem that I was hungry. No, scratch that -- I was starving. And I was starting to wonder if Kim had developed telepathy in the past few years, because right when that thought hit my mind she turned to me and asked, "When was the last time you ate anything?" Guess she hadn't been as put-off as I'd been aiming for.

I shrugged. There wasn't really an answer to that. Oh, sure, I had one, but there was no way I was going to tell her what I'd been living on while trying to get here. I'll tell you, there's no glamour in living off the land. Maybe there's something to be said for hunting and scavenging if you spend all your time in the woods or whatever, but when you come to cities there's none of that. Unless you count the dumpsters behind restaurants as 'prey'. Just because I'd been forced to reach such lows didn't mean I was willing to advertise them, especially to her. She was still waiting for an answer, so I gave her a vague, "A while."

She watched me for a moment before nodding and beginning to rummage through her closet. "Well, I'll get my mom to fix a big breakfast, then. You probably want to take a shower, too." She pulled out a shirt, looked it over, then looked at me. "I don't know if my clothes would fit you; you're taller than me… do you need anything special for, um, you know…" she shrugged her shoulders a bit, and I rolled my eyes.

"They're called wings, Princess." I shot her a look. What, had she gone into mother-mode or something? I'd been sure she'd kick me out the minute I woke up, but here she was offering me food, hot running water, and clothes from her own closet. Was I in the right house? Did Kimmie have a twin? She'd be, what, 20 or 21 now, college age -- what exactly had I missed in the past three years, here? "And if I want to be able to spread them without tearing my shirt off, then yeah, I do need to cut slits for them. So I don't think you want me wearing your stuff."

She considered this for a moment, her expression showing that I was right; she didn't like the idea of cutting up her precious clothes. She finally began rummaging again, and I heard her mutter, "Maybe I've got something old I don't wear anymore…" I grinned. Okay, still Kim in that aspect, at least.

I stood and stretched again, moving away from the window -- in my current situation, well, just because you're paranoid _does not_ mean that no one's out to get you, and I wasn't looking to attract attention from any peeping Toms. I then took a second to look around the room and actually examine things, a chance I'd been denied the night before, both by the darkness and by the fact that I'd had better things to do then see what Kimmie's room was like. Really, it wasn't much different than I would have expected. Lots of pink. The desk held a computer, a couple books, and some papers. She had a telescope; I wondered if she ever used it. I looked at the bed, spotted something, and grinned, moving to pick it up.

"You have a Cuddle Buddy?" I asked, amused. She turned, saw me holding the thing, and shot me a glare, trying to grab it from me. I stepped out of the way. "How cute."

"Give me my Pandaroo back!" she demanded, and I laughed, holding it above her reach.

"Aww, does little Kimmie want her Cuddle Buddy?" I teased, fully entertained by watching her jump for it, knowing she was unlikely to pounce me or anything considering the circumstances, and that because I _was_ taller than her, she was unlikely to get at the stuffed creature if I didn't want her to.

Okay. I know I wasn't being the nicest I could be. I mean, I'd dumped a bombshell on her, spent the night in her room, and had her being all caring this morning, and here I was teasing her about her stuffed animal. But no one ever accused me of being the nicest person on earth. Besides, it was bringing out the Kim I knew, the one I was more comfortable with -- the teenager with an attitude, fighting me over something, the way it was supposed to be, even if scaled down a good bit. And, in my defence, I did eventually let her snatch it back, and stepped back to watch as she smoothed its short little fur and held it possessively, glaring at me. We stood silent for a while before she apparently decided it was safe to place the Pandaroo back on her pillow, which she did so with a gentleness that was somewhat adorable.

The moment over, she turned back to the closet, pulling out an outfit -- more pink; the girl was obsessed -- and glanced over her shoulder at me. "I'm gonna change my clothes, then we'll go fill my parents in and get breakfast."

"Whoa, whoa, hold on there, Princess. 'Fill them in'? Nuh-uh. We're not telling them about this. No way."

She crossed her arms. "And why not?"

"Because. This is sorta one of those things that you don't just go around telling everyone. Doy!"

"Why? I'd think that the more people know, the more people can help. If we tell them, maybe they can find out what's going on and get it stopped."

I shot her a look. "Great! And while we're at it, why don't you just drop me off in the zoo right now? Or another lab, you know, 'cause I can never get enough of _those_."

She looked a bit startled. "They wouldn't put you in a zoo, Shego!"

"They're _scientists_, Possible. Both of them." Boy, she was slow on the uptake, it seemed. Been spending too much time with that sidekick of hers, had she?

"So? They're not… Whitecoats, or whatever. Not all scientists are bad guys, Shego."

"No, but all scientists are _scientists_. And I'm a woman with wings. Practically screams 'experiment'."

I could see she thought I was being paranoid and closed-minded and all that, but I couldn't see how she wasn't making this connection. It should have been obvious, but I guess I needed to spell it out. "Shego…" she started, but I cut her off.

"Look, Pumpkin. Maybe your _parents_ wouldn't see it that way, but I can assure you _someone_ would. If we tell anyone, word would get out, and I'd be nothing more than an experiment, or a freaking zoo animal. I'm a mutant _freak_ with _wings_, Possible. If anyone in the scientific community found out, it'd eventually come back and get me, no matter what."

She looked at me for a long moment, and I could tell that she understood that. She finally offered, "Well, we'll tell them it's a secret… I mean, they'll understand, Shego, and they can help us…"

I sighed. "No. Maybe they can, but they're still both scientists." Seeing her about to protest, I held up a hand to stop her. "Sure, we can tell them it's a secret, and they won't tell anyone they've seen a human-avian hybrid wandering around. But they're scientists, which means they'll want to _know_, and even if they don't come right out and say it, they'll be asking around. 'Have you ever heard of this, do you think that would be possible, what do you assume would happen if…'" I shrugged. "Normally that wouldn't be a problem. But in this case… it could draw attention, Princess. I don't know how much influence the School has, I don't know who knows about them or who supports them. All I know is that they'll be looking for me. If these two scientists start asking a lot of questions relating to recombinants or avian hybrids…" I let that hang until she nodded slightly.

"So we tell them that. I'm telling you, Shego, they're not like that. If we tell them that it's a big secret and why, they'll stay quiet about it."

I sighed again. I hadn't wanted to bring this up again so soon, but she didn't give me much choice. "Remember what I told you about Erasers?" I asked.

"Yeah?"

"They're the ones who are out trying to capture me. Slip up once, give them one reason to think I even _might_ be here… one slip, and Erasers will be all over this house. And they don't care who they kill, Kimmie. If your parents honestly don't know what's going on, they'd be safer -- the Erasers would be able to tell that they really were clueless, so they'd make up some story, grab me, and get out. If your parents _did_ know and really did refuse to tell them…" I saw no need to finish that sentence. I could already see the shock and slight fear in her expression as her mind finished it for her. "That's why we're not telling them, Kimmie." It would just be too big of a risk. And not just for me.

She was silent for a long moment. "Well… what do we tell them, then? They have to know that you're here, Shego. I can't just hide you out in my room."

"Who said I was sticking around that long?" I asked logically, earning myself a sharp look for my trouble.

"I'm not letting you go back out on the streets again, with the Erasers and Lord knows what else! Not after you've dumped this all on me. You came to me for help; well now we're in this together. You've got nowhere else to go, so you're staying here." A part of me _really_ wanted to argue, and a part of me _really_ did not, and it is a tribute to my increasing level of insanity that it was the latter that won out. I sighed slightly and rolled my eyes -- refusing to be fully okay with it -- and nodded.

"Whatever."

She sat down on the bed, change of clothes momentarily forgotten, and looked thoughtful. "I guess I can just tell them you're a friend who needs some help. Modify the story to leave out all the science-y genetic stuff." I started to agree, but she just _had_ to keep talking and destroy that momentary illusion of intelligence. "I'll have to call Ron after breakfast and fill him in on the sitch."

I stared at her. "Didn't we _just_ cover this?"

"Okay. One: Ron is not a scientist, nor does he work with them, so that gets rid of that problem altogether. Two: you want my help, you get Ron, too. We're a team, Shego. We work together." Her tone and expression left no room for argument, and I did have to admit that the risk for him knowing was a lot less than the risk for the older Possibles knowing. It's not like he was a member of the scientific community in any way. And if the Erasers did come after him, they'd probably figure he wasn't worth the time. Besides, if he stuck around Kim as much as he used to, he'd always be with us, anyways, and it would make things easier if I wasn't always having to watch what I said or did around him.

"Okay, okay, tell your boyfriend, whatever." I sighed heavily to express my annoyance and plopped down on the bed opposite her. "He'd turn and run the second he saw an Eraser," I muttered. "Real useful."

She shot me another look. "He's more useful than you'd think, Shego. He's a part of the team, no matter what."

I sighed. "Whatever." I don't know what it was about her sidekick that got me so riled. I mean, I'm sure he's a great kid and all that. And I didn't even know him that well. Heck, I didn't know him at _all_. But something about him just seemed to rub me the wrong way, I guess. Oh, well, with any luck I wouldn't have to be around him much.

The silence this time lasted a good three minutes, both of us thinking. When Kim finally did speak, she'd made a major topic jump I hadn't been expecting.

"Shego?"

I looked at her. She kept calling me by name. It was weird. It had been a good long time since I'd heard that name, been called it by anyone. Took some re-getting-used-to- it time, made me do a double-take to hear it, to remember that 'Shego' was me. "Yeah?"

"How did those two Erasers die?"

I gave her a confused look. "What?"

"The two Erasers that came to get your DNA, that first time. You said their names wouldn't matter anymore, because they were both dead. How did they die?" She met my eyes evenly.

"I also told you I had nothing to do with it," I pointed out, guessing where this was leading. "I didn't do anything to them."

"I know. I remember that. So I'm curious. What _did_ happen to them?"

I sighed. "Well, you know how this is all genetic recombination and junk?" She nodded. "It's a dangerous game, I guess, messing with genetics. The stuff they do tends to… well, self-destruct. Break down. I've seen it dozens of times. The rabbit-dog combination was just… a mess. The cat-mouse project ended with a giant, hostile mouse that couldn't digest grain or meat -- it starved to death." I read the disgust in her expression and nodded my agreement. "The Erasers are the best they've pulled off so far, and they have one fatal flaw -- literally -- in them. Their life-span. They go from embryo to infant in five weeks, from infant to young adult in about four years. They usually give out around six, though they're constantly making improvements; I think we're at version 5.5 by now. The two who came after me were already at five and a half -- they didn't last much longer."

She thought about this for a long time. "So…" she finally started, "does that apply to… I mean, does that mean it'll… it happens to everything? So what about…"

I saved her further babbling. I knew where this was going -- I'd asked the same question before. Many times. "I don't know, Princess. So far, everything they've made has had some sort of problem like that. I don't know, though. I've lasted two years with nothing going death-mode on me. That's better than usual, so I'm thinking I'll stay optimistic."

She nodded slowly. I hated the look in her eyes -- sympathy, concern, caring, all those things she should definitely _not_be feeling about me but because she was Kimmie, she was. _Hmph_. Heroes.

"You ever gonna get dressed, or are we planning to sit around up here all day? 'Cause, you know, I'm hungry."

That seemed to snap her out of whatever piece of thought she was lost in. "Oh. Right." She gathered the outfit she'd picked out and started for the door. I raised an eyebrow.

"What, not changing in here?" I asked, grinning. She shot me a look, but apparently chose to ignore that comment.

"I'll be right back. Stay here."

"No, I was planning to jump right back out the window," I shot back sarcastically, and she rolled her eyes and pulled the door shut behind her.

Alone in the room, I looked for something to occupy myself. I could hide her Pandaroo, but somehow I figured I'd messed with the little thing enough -- besides, I had to admit, it was cute. Hey, so I have a soft spot for creatures of mixed DNA now. So sue me.

I didn't figure Kimmie would appreciate my messing with her computer, and besides, what would I do with it, anyways? Somehow I doubt that if I looked up 'the School' or 'Erasers' I'd find anything useful. Telescopes were near useless for stargazing in the daytime, and had lost a good deal of their usefulness to me for daytime looking at things (A.K.A. spying, for those who didn't catch that idea). and I didn't want to be in front of the window, anyways. I lay back on the bed with a sigh.

I'll admit, I felt oddly guilty. I mean, I wasn't being completely honest, here. I hadn't told Kimmie the whole story about everything, and I'd skimped on the truth in a few spots. But she didn't need to know _everything_. What reason was there for me to detail really how I'd escaped and why, or what I was really doing in 'Eraser Park' in the first place? And she didn't need to hear about everything they'd done to me, or things they were doing to others -- why burden her with that? And what good would it do her to know about everything that had come together to convince me that I _needed_ help, her help, because I just couldn't dash away and save my own skin; I had to go back? I'd left too much behind.

And it wasn't a lie to tell her 'I don't know'. I didn't know, a lot of it. There were a lot of unanswered questions. And the oddest of it was how much I cared, in ways I thought I never would have, not only about the parts involving me but with all of it. It was weird to care about something this much again. I'd thought I'd lost the ability to care about any situation that didn't directly involve me, but now I had the chance to potentially escape it all, but I hadn't because I _cared_, and because something in me just knew it wasn't right. Some villain I was turning out to be, now.

It wasn't too long until my rather annoying train of thought was cut off by Kim coming back in, PJ's folded and ready to be put neatly into a drawer -- geesh, what, was she OCD or something? The room was spotless -- which she did before turning her attention to me. "Falling asleep again?"

"Hardly." I sat up. "So now you're all dressed and pretty. Now what?"

"Now… we go talk to my parents."

"Joy," I muttered with a sigh, standing and folding my wings as tight as they'd go -- I could fold them into sort of creases between my shoulder blades, which was useful in that no one would see them like that unless they were specifically looking and knew what to look for -- and moved to get my jacket off the floor where I'd left it the night before. "At least I'll get some food out of the deal."

"And a shower," she said pointedly.

"Are you insinuating something, Kimmie?" I asked, glaring at her -- though, if she was, she was right, and I knew it.

"Nope, not at all," she replied, grinning slightly. "Now come on." She headed for the door.

"Oh, so I'm allowed to leave the room, now?"

"Just come _on_, Shego," she demanded. I grinned and followed her, pulling on my jacket as I did. _Well, here goes nothing._


	5. A 'Friend' In Need

Author's Note: :looks at last update date: Wow, Abby. Just… wow. Fail. Total fail. I lose. …I blame college. And work. And writer's block. And computer troubles causing me to lose my entire folder of stories, sending all my half-written chapters into the abyss of nothingness. …Not good enough, huh? Yeah, I know. I suck. But, with a bit of luck, I'm back -- dang, SO many stories to pick up… so much to re-write… wow, I've created myself an ADD writer's paradise and I wasn't trying. So… win? Or fail… probably a bit of both. Hopefully some of you guys are still with me… and will forgive me for this… fiasco.

This chapter was hard. :points to above reasons: Add to those that it was just… awkward. I honestly have a hell of a hard time getting Kim's parent's characters right, I feel like we've seen so little of them, so writing her mother was a real stretch. Plus, we all know I find Kim's POV harder than Shego's, so combining both of those issues here… well, I think this chapter sucks. And is WAY too short. But it explains some stuff that I think needed to be explained, so in that, it will have to do. Hopefully that's good enough and I can make up for it in the next one… which I assure you is being written. And, God willing, will not take me another year to post. XD

Oh, final word. For anyone reading any of my other stories… yes, I intend to work on them too. Can't say how quickly -- I need to re-read, re-plan, and re-write. But I'm back, and I intend to be back in full, given time and inspiration, so bear with me and thanks in advance.

Chapter Four: A 'Friend' In Need…

I couldn't help but notice the way Shego moved when walking down the stairs. She practically tip-toed, making almost no noise -- even on the usually creaky steps -- like she was sneaking, like she didn't want to be heard. I watched her eyes scan the hall, noting every door and lingering a moment on open rooms. Finding escape routes, I guessed. I held back a sigh. She'd been a thief, and from the look of it, I guess she still was. And I was letting her -- no, practically making her -- stay in my house. I must be nuts. But whether I trusted her or not, the story seemed too fantastic to be made up -- surely she wasn't _that_ creative -- and she did have pretty good proof, so I couldn't just kick her out. I mean, she couldn't exactly _fake _those wings. I'd just have to keep a close eye on her. Make sure she didn't… try anything.

We found my mom in the living room, putting out decorations. Of all times for this to happen, of course, it had to come a week and a half before Christmas. That was actually why I was here at my house instead of at the Go City college I currently attended: I was home for the holidays, relaxing after a full semester and working on planning my next one -- which, hopefully, would be my last one in Go City. I hoped to transfer the coming fall to a rather prestigious London university, now that I'd finished my freshman and sophomore years, complete with the year Ron and I had both taken off after high school to tour the world actually as tourists rather than as heroes. It was nice to be home, and nice to spend so much time with Ron again -- he went to a culinary school here in Middleton, and the busy final weeks had kept us apart recently. He'd been offered, after this coming semester, a scholarship to a culinary school in Paris. He was thrilled, but that would put us in different countries; farther apart than we'd ever been, and neither of us were sure how we felt about that.

I felt Shego's eyes on me and realized she was staring at me, eyebrow raised -- Mom hadn't noticed us yet, I had totally been zoning, and apparently she was waiting for me to make the first move. Thankfully. I didn't think I wanted her explaining; she'd either leave so much out that Mom would get suspicious, or she'd lie completely. Neither I liked. But I had absolutely _no_ idea how to start this conversation. I cleared my throat nervously.

"Um… Mom?"

"Good morning, Kimmie-cub" she began, turning to face me. Her greeting smile faded to a look of confusion as her gaze fell on Shego. "Oh… who's this?" I could hear the slightly surprised note in her voice, but she seemed more confused than anything -- which I guess was understandable. I mean, it was what, 7:00 AM, and it wasn't like the doorbell rang or anything, and here was this rather messy-looking woman standing here behind me in the living room, apparently out of nowhere. And I had to explain this. _Great._

"Mom, this is Shego. She's… um…" I paused for a moment, thinking hard, and still finding no way out of this. "She's a friend of mine." I tried not to wince at what was actually a good bit of a lie. "She's… sorta in a bit of trouble and needs my help. Is it okay if she stays here for a few days?" I realized only after I'd stopped talking exactly how fast I had rattled that all off; I guess I was in a hurry to get it over with and get an answer.

Mom glanced at Shego, gave her a quick once-over, and then looked at me searchingly for just long enough to make me start to worry before nodding and smiling slightly. "If she needs to, then, certainly. Your friends are always welcome."

I released the breath I hadn't known I was holding -- and I thought I heard Shego sigh a bit behind me too -- and said "Thanks, Mom," hoping I didn't sound too relieved, but I did catch an odd note in Mom's voice, her 'I'm-not-so-sure' tone, along with the 'we need to discuss this' look she shot me -- the one that let me know it would probably be a good idea to get Shego out of the room so Mom and I could have a private conversation.

She confirmed my suspicions by turning to Shego and saying, "You can stay in the guest room. Do you have anything you need to move in?"

Shego shifted a bit uncomfortably. "Um… no, not really. I, uh… I travel light." There was a moment of silence before she added, "But, now that this has all been settled, may I make use of your shower?" I was surprised at both her grammar and her moderate politeness -- and, when I thought about it, her ability to realize she should get herself out of the room so Mom and I could talk. _…Or maybe she just really wants a shower_. Yeah, that must be it, 'cause I'd never known Shego to be particularly tactful. She was fidgeting awkwardly, and looked rather relieved when Mom nodded.

"Of course."

I glanced over my shoulder at Shego. "Upstairs, second door on the left… shampoo and towels and all that are in the cabinet under the sink." She nodded and darted off for the stairs, apparently eager to be gone. I turned back to Mom, and sighed slightly -- she had _that_ look. The one where I owed her an explanation, and she wanted it _now_.

"Okay, Kim, explain. Don't think I don't recognize her." I winced slightly; I should have seen this coming -- and I sort of had -- but that didn't make this any easier _to_ explain.

"Mom… Shego… she's… not who she used to be," I began, instantly hearing the cliché in my own words. I hurried to clarify. "She hasn't done anything criminal in at least two years. She's…" I really didn't want to lie, but the best I could do is tell her what I could and hope it was the truth, since I had to admit Shego hadn't said much on the topic herself. "She's trying to straighten up, I really think she is, and she needs help."

Mom nodded slowly. "And so… she came here to ask you to help her 'straighten up'?"

I nodded slightly. "I guess she didn't know anywhere else to go. I promised her I would help her out, Mom… she knows she's on thin ice, but I can't turn her away when she came here honestly looking for help." It was the most I felt I could say without stumbling into the realm of having to flat-out lie, and I could tell from Mom's expression that it wasn't as much as she would have liked. But after a long pause, she nodded.

"Alright, Kim… I'll trust your judgment. You're old enough to make your own choices… and if you trust her, that's enough for me." She gave me a look that said 'for now' as she spoke, just enough to let me know that she wanted me to give her some more information at some point. She turned back to the decorations she was working on, giving me a much welcome chance for a silent sigh of relief. When she did that, I knew the major conversation was over. "Any idea how long your friend will be staying?"

"A couple weeks, max," I answered, trying to sound certain. She nodded.

"Alright, then. Any idea when Ron will be coming over?" There was an added question hidden in there, I knew -- 'does Ron know?' -- and it reminded me that this wasn't the only explanation I had to offer -- nor was it quite the hardest.

"No, I'm going to call him," I replied, already heading out of the living room.

She nodded again. "Invite him over for breakfast if you'd like," she called over her shoulder as I moved for the stairs. I hurried up them, pausing to lean against the wall once I reached the top. That could have gone worse, but I knew it wasn't over. She'd want more of an explanation; she'd want to know what exactly Shego wanted help with, and what I intended to do about it. And when that came up, I had _no _idea what I was going to tell her. I sighed, pushing off the wall to head for my room. I had a phone call to make.


End file.
